Cattle Rancher, Secret Son

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Cattle Rancher, Secret Son Page 12

by Margaret Way


  “I don’t want you to go, Steve,” Cal said. “You do a great job. I rely on you and I trust you.”

  “I appreciate that, Cal. I really do but I can’t have one of the McKendricks for me and one bitterly against.”

  “What about Meredith?”

  Steve fought to speak calmly. “What have I got to offer her, Cal? A woman like that.”

  “Okay, so we can fix things,” Cal said. “Do you love her?”

  Steve lowered his head. No response.

  “Steve?”

  When Steve looked up there was misery in his golden eyes. “I was in love with her from the word go. Nothing has happened between us, Cal. Just a few kisses.”

  “One kiss can change a man’s life, Steve.”

  “Tell me about it. It’s not as if I’ve even got a name to offer her. My own mother and Lancaster did that to me.”

  “That’s quite an indictment,” Cal said.

  “You don’t know what it’s like, Cal. I know you feel for me but you can’t really put yourself in my shoes. You’re a McKendrick. That’s a proud, pioneering name. You know who you are.”

  “And you know who you are,” Cal responded. “You’re a top man. Every last person on the station likes and respects you.”

  “You’re leaving out the most important people. Your parents.”

  “It’s quite possible to love one’s parents or some member of the family, for that matter, without liking them. I know my father and mother have a certain view of themselves that doesn’t jell with the times. Right from the early days Coronation Hill was run more or less on feudal lines. Even Dad’s extraordinary attitude to Merri’s suitors, and she’s had quite a few very serious about her, is feudal. It’s the sheer size of the place and the isolation.”

  “Plus the money, the power and the influence,” Steve added harshly. “I really should have taken my mother’s maiden name instead of staying with Lockhart. But I guess it’s too late to change now.”

  “Meredith will be tremendously upset if you go.”

  “I’ll think of something,” Steve said, his mind jam-packed with mostly crazy ideas. How did a working man win an heiress? A working man with pride?

  “I’ve thought of something,” Cal said. “Want to hear it?”

  “Just let me get the coffee,” Steve said, rising and moving back to the kitchen.

  “Thanks,” Cal said when Steve returned with a tray wafting a rich aroma. “What do you think about this? What if I send you to Jingoll?” Jingoll was a McKendrick outstation close in to the McDonnell Ranges in the Territory’s Red Centre. “And bring Cash Hammond back here. He’s a good bloke. He’s not you, but he does the job.”

  The constriction around Steve’s heart eased up slightly. “But wouldn’t your father object to that, too, Cal?”

  Cal looked untroubled. “Dad’s the king of the castle in name only these days, Steve. You know that. I run the chain. If I say I’m sending you to Jingoll, Dad will accept it.”

  “And I never get to see Meredith?” Steve drank his coffee too hot.

  “That’s up to the two of you, Steve. Merri has a sizeable trust fund.”

  “God, Cal!” Steve set his mug down so hard it might have been a hammer on an anvil.

  “Hear me out,” Cal said, holding up a hand. “I’m well aware of your scruples, Steve. All I’m saying is Meredith has the freedom to do what she likes.”

  “But if she came to me then your parents would give up on her?” Steve met Cal’s eyes directly.

  “It all translates into choices, Steve. We all have to make our own choices in life.”

  When Cal returned to the homestead an hour later he went in search of his sister. He needed to tell her what had transpired between him and Steve. Steve moving away from Coronation Hill was an undoubted loss for the station, but a plus for Jingoll. He didn’t know what Meredith would think of it however. Jingoll was around eight hundred miles away, the distance between Darwin in the Top End and Alice Springs in the Red Centre being close to a thousand miles. He entered through one of the rear doors of the house, hearing voices coming from down the hallway. As he drew nearer to his father’s study he recognised the voices. His mother and Gina were having a discussion. Ordinarily he would have let the sound of his boots announce his arrival, but this time for some reason he trod very quietly along the thick Persian runner, hesitating a few feet from the open doorway.

  “So that’s how it was done?” Gina was saying, her voice resonating with what Cal thought was quiet resignation.

  “Something had to be done,” his mother snapped back. “My son was to marry his childhood sweetheart. They were as good as engaged even before that unfortunate holiday.”

  “So that was the plan,” Gina continued as though she was scarcely listening to his mother. “Your sister—a most convincing, beautiful society lady—told me Cal was to marry the girl the entire family loved. It had been known for ages. Sadly for me, I was little more than a bachelor’s last fling before Cal tied the knot. A few months on he would be settling down to a splendid marriage—one made in Heaven.”

  “And so it was!” Jocelyn responded, her tone showing not a skerrick of remorse.

  Again Gina didn’t sound as if she were listening. It seemed more like she was simply speaking her thoughts aloud. “So you and your sister came up with a plan. She told Cal—who trusted her implicitly—and why not? I saw how sweet and loving she was with him—that I had gone to her, begging her to have me spirited off the island. She was a powerful lady. I was in awe of her. I was so young, the product of an ordinary working-class family. I thought your family lived on a scale I couldn’t even imagine. The owner of the island was your sister’s good friend. She could do anything. So the two of you concocted the story that I had confessed to her I had given my promise to marry my childhood sweetheart. My fictional childhood sweetheart. My father was a control freak, Mrs McKendrick. Something like you. I had no boyfriend. Then your sister told Cal I’d become panicked by the situation I found myself in. I had got myself in so deep I wanted only to run away. I was already promised to a young man my father approved of. I remember the exact words she used to me. She seemed so kind, so wise and mature, trying to prevent me from making a fool of myself, but she was playing me for the naive girl I was. ‘My dear child, you do realise my nephew is very far above you?’”

  “True, too true!” Jocelyn answered so strongly. Cal winced. “Only by then it was too late. You were already pregnant.”

  “How could I possibly regret it?” Gina said. “Nothing was easy. My father was so devastated by my fall from grace, he banished me from our home. But I had Cal’s son, my beloved Robbie. It may not be what you want, Mrs McKendrick, but Cal and I will be married very soon. Our son is the most important person in the world to us. If you wish to hold on to your son’s love it might be in your best interest to turn over a new leaf.”

  There was a shocked silence, then his mother’s well-bred voice rising in outrage. “You’re advising me, are you?”

  Cal judged it high time to make his appearance. He stood framed in the open doorway of the study, trying to keep calm if only on the surface. His mother was wearing her famous pearls. She was seated behind the huge partner’s desk that was singularly free of paper work. Meredith, the unsung heroine, took care of all that with her usual quiet efficiency. Gina was standing in front of the desk, with her back to him.

  His mother saw him first, her skin draining of all colour. “Cal, how long have you been there?” she quavered.

  Gina spun around. Her face, too, betrayed shock. “Cal, we never heard you.”

  He closed the distance between them, folding an arm around her. “For once I was eavesdropping. I should do it more often, especially with so many dishonest people about.”

  Gina’s sigh was ragged. “We didn’t mean for you to hear anything.” She had been trying to effect a private understanding with her future mother-in-law, not drag Cal into it.

  “I did tell you to
shut the door,” Jocelyn snapped, some colour returning to her face. As ever she was determined on braving it out.

  “I’m sorry. I should have, but you rather upset me…”

  Jocelyn sucked in a breath. “And I’m not upset?’

  “If you are you deserve to be, Mother,” Cal told her bluntly. “You and dear Aunt Lorinda. Just goes to show what a fool I was back then. I trusted her. She was family. She’d never shown me anything but love. She’s a wonderful actress, too. I was sucked in good and proper.”

  “Exactly what she wanted,” Gina said bleakly. “I believed her, too.”

  “Let’s be very clear here,” Jocelyn interrupted, a frown between her eyes, “Lorinda’s only motivation was love and concern. She didn’t want you, Cal, to make a terrible mistake.”

  “The terrible mistake was getting engaged to poor Kym. The fact is the two of you conspired to ruin my relationship with Gina,” Cal said with a hard condemnatory note Jocelyn had never heard in his voice before. “I won’t forget!”

  “But, Calvin, we did what we thought best.” Jocelyn threw up her hands. “You were set to marry Kym. She was just right for you. I was very grateful to Lorinda for letting me know what was happening on that island. It might be hard to believe now, Gina, but Lorinda quite liked you. She thought you very beautiful and clever, but unfortunately not one of us. She was seriously worried that you may have got hurt.”

  Gina gave a brittle laugh. “I did get seriously hurt, Mrs McKendrick.”

  “Please don’t let’s overlook the damage done to me,” Cal broke in, his expression severe. “I’m only just getting to know my son. Robbie is only just getting to know his father. Or did the three of you think it was all women’s business?” He turned his head to stare Gina down.

  Gina didn’t answer. Jocelyn sat stricken under her son’s weight of judgement.

  “What, no replies?” Cal asked, curtly. “No, sorrow, no remorse?”

  Jocelyn delicately licked her chiselled lips. They were bone-dry. “Robert is a splendid little fellow.” She offered like it was some sort of olive branch. “A true McKendrick. I’m sure the two of us will become great friends. Your father is already very proud of him, Cal. Robert is a beautiful child.”

  “You would never have laid eyes on him, only Merri happened to see that article about Gina in a paper,” Cal pointed out coldly. “It was Merri who drew my attention to it. We have her to thank for bringing Robert into our lives.”

  “Fate sometimes takes steps to put things right,” Gina murmured, lifting her drooping head.

  “So where does that leave us?” Jocelyn asked.

  Cal clipped off his answer. “It leaves us with the hope you’ll take a good long look at yourself, Mum. You cross Gina, you cross me. Gina is to be my wife. She’s the mother of my son. I love you—you know that—but I won’t tolerate your trying to destroy the life the two of us want for our son. You messed up once. You’re not allowed to do it again.”

  Cal turned about and stalked from the room, leaving the two women staring at one another. It would have been an exaggeration to say they were suddenly allies but they both felt the weight of his deep abiding anger.

  Robbie, running around the ground floor, in an ecstasy of exploration, found Jocelyn some time later in the big room with all the plants. It was a dazzling world for a small boy used only to the confines of a two-bedroom apartment. In the room where his grandmother was, there were trees that nearly reached the ceiling. There were lovely big fat pots taller than he was, like the pots full of golden canes Aunt Rosa had in her garden. Huge hanging baskets were suspended from the ceiling, tumbling masses of beautiful ferns and flowers. He had never seen so many flowers in his life.

  Mummy always had flowers in the apartment. He and Aunt Rosa used to go out into the garden late afternoon and pick some for her before she came home. Mummy liked lilies. There were beds and beds of lilies out in the garden, which seemed to him more like the Botanical Gardens Mummy used to take him to. He had never seen anything in his short life like this place called Coronation Hill. Not just the great big castle, but all the little houses and long dormitories for the stockmen grouped around it. There were no streets or streetlights, no highways, on Coronation; no tall buildings, no buses or trains, nor lots of cars whizzing up and down. There were no coffee shops and restaurants, none of the shops where Mummy normally went to buy things. Instead there were planes and a helicopter, lots of heavy machinery, thousands and thousands of really marvellous-looking cattle, emus, kangaroos—he’d heard crocodiles— zillions of birds and best of all horses. He couldn’t wait until the special pony his daddy had ordered for him would arrive. But above all there was this enormous, empty land! It spread out to the horizons and they had it all to themselves! That was amazing! Coronation Hill was an enchanted kingdom. And it was his home.

  “Hello, Nana!” he carolled, delighted to see her. His grandmother was sitting quietly with her back to him so he ran around the front of her, stopping short in dismay, “Oh, Nanna, you’re crying!”

  Jocelyn tried very hard to stem the flow. She had been sitting there coming to terms with what was going on in her life. It seemed to her she had never been so alone, darn near ostracised. Of course she was to blame. Her attitude was so negative. Even she could see that. Ewan was very upset with her. Their argument the night before had badly affected her. Cal, her beloved son, was starting to think badly of her. Of course she was jealous. Go on, admit it! She had been the Number One woman in her son’s life. She wasn’t any more. That was hard to take, especially for a possessive woman like her. A winner all her life it seemed to her all of a sudden she could finish up a big loser if she persisted with the hard line she had taken. Maybe there was something dreadfully wrong with her? The only answer was to express an abject apology directly to Gina, her soon-to-be daughter-in-law and suggest they start again.

  “Nanna?” Robbie asked uncertainly, worried his grandmother might be sick or something.

  Jocelyn came out of her unhappy reverie. “Just a few little tears, darling boy. Nothing for you to worry about. I’m fine now. What have you been up to?” she asked, trying to speak brightly.

  Robbie moved close to her, putting his elbows in her lap and staring into her face. “Why are you so sad?”

  Jocelyn gave a funny little groan. “How can I be sad with you around?” She gave him a lovely trembling smile.

  Robbie leaned upwards and kissed her on the cheek. “It’s so wonderful here, Nanna. I love it. It’s my home now, isn’t it?”

  “It certainly is,” Jocelyn responded, the icebergs that had all but held her heart fast, starting to melt away. “Coronation Hill is where you belong.”

  “And Mummy?” Robbie asked earnestly, taking her hand. “Don’t you think she’s beautiful?”

  Jocelyn saw a far-reaching question in her grandson’s highly intelligent eyes. Her eyes, wasn’t that remarkable?

  “Yes, darling, I do,” she said, allowing herself to be drawn to her feet. “Mummy is very beautiful and she’s raised you beautifully. She should be very proud. We’re going to have the greatest time ever on the wedding day. I expect you want to be page boy?”

  “Page boy, what’s that?” Robbie looked up at her a shade anxiously.

  “Come along with me and I’ll show you,” Jocelyn said. “I can show you photographs of your daddy when he was page boy at several big society weddings. That was when he was around four or five. He said he was too old thereafter and refused. Aunty Merri was flower girl at lots of weddings. It’s all in the albums.”

  “Please show me,” Robbie said with the greatest interest. “Are there photos of you, Nanna? Mummy said you would have been a fairy-tale bride?”

  Jocelyn’s gratified smile flashed out. She bent and kissed the top of her grandson’s glossy head. “Oh, I was, my darling,” she said. “I can show you. I used to have hair like your mummy’s. It flowed all the way down my back.”

  “Like Rapunzel?” Robbie giggled.


  “Rapunzel didn’t stand a chance!” Jocelyn joyfully squeezed his hand.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MEREDITH rode until she and the gelding were close to exhaustion. It was the gelding’s condition far more than her own that had her reining in at the creek, a place that she loved, all the more so now, because it was the place she and Steven had first acknowledged what they could mean to each other. The lead up had been slow—the going was tough—but finally when left alone together caution had given way to feelings of the heart. She just knew in her bones Steven wouldn’t stay after the harshness of the way her father had spoken to him. He had insulted Steven in the worst possible way. It was so cruel, so unfair. Steven was the victim of the illicit affair between Gavin Lancaster and his mother. Steven was blameless. Yet he had been saddled with a burden almost too heavy to carry for most of his life.

  Meredith sat down on the bank beneath the willowy melaleucas, with hundreds of little wildflowers, purple with yellow, black-spotted throats, growing all around the base of the sweet sapped trees. Above her, she could see chinks of the smouldering blue sky. There could be a late tropical thunderstorm though a cooling breeze had sprung up. It was moving its fingers through her hair and quelling the heat in her skin. A pair of brolgas were standing on their long legs amid the reeds at the water’s edge. Brolgas mated for life. These days humans weren’t taking sacred vows all that seriously. When she married she wanted it to be for ever.

  She thought about the way Steven had kissed her; the way he held her; the depth of feeling he had transmitted to her through his mouth and his hands. Yet she had been much more certain yesterday that he loved her than she was today. At least in love with her. That very first kiss had been to her, the start of something big. She asked herself if it had really been that way for him.

  A flight of pygmy-geese with their glossy green upper parts and breast bands had arrived, hovering above the mirror-clear surface of the water as though admiring their reflections. On the opposite bank brilliantly coloured parrots were alighting in the trees with wonderful flashes of emerald, deepest sapphire, scarlet, yellow, orange. Australia was famous for the numbers and varieties of its parrots. Almost certainly they had originated on the ancient southern continent of Gondwana. For once the sight of them didn’t give her the usual pleasure. At that moment she felt as though all pleasure had been drained out of her.

 

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